


No. 25 "I think I'll just collapse right here,  thanks" (Lancelot)

by Onehelluvapilot



Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Caring Gwen (Merlin), Gen, Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Male-Female Friendship, Sick Character, Whump, Whumptober 2020, using someone's legs as a pillow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: Okay for real this time this is the last fic in the series that mentions Lancelot's death. It's just a mention here too.Gwen hears someone moving around in the kitchen late at night and goes to investigate
Relationships: Gwen & Lancelot (Merlin)
Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952440
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	No. 25 "I think I'll just collapse right here,  thanks" (Lancelot)

Gwen, who had always been a light sleeper, woke to the sound of someone moving around over in the kitchen. Normally she would assume it was Gwaine or Elyan rummaging for a midnight snack, but they were both out on a demon hunt in North Dakota. After hearing the distinct sound of a tea kettle being filled, though, she realized it was probably just Gaius fixing himself a late night cup of chamomile tea and rolled over to go back to sleep.

After a few minutes, the tea kettle began to whistle. Evidently, Gaius or whoever it was heating water wasn’t paying any attention, because they didn’t take it off the stove and it kept shrieking. Gwen waited a few more seconds, hoping that the sound would stop without her having to go intervene, but it didn’t, so she reluctantly got out of bed and went to go give a piece of her mind to whoever was making so much noise at two in the morning.

She quickly changed her mind about that when she reached the kitchen only to find Lancelot slumped over on the ground beside the oven. Running over, she quickly moved the tea kettle and shut off the stove before dropping down next to him. The hunter was curled in against himself, eyes closed and brow creased in pain.

“Lance, Lancelot, wake up,” Gwen pleaded, cradling his head with one hand. He opened his eyes to look at her, though his gaze didn’t seem to quite focus. Shifting her hand around, she realized he had a fever as she touched his forehead. “What happened?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, voice sounding hoarse. As well as clearly being a lie, that didn’t answer her question. She quickly began to card her fingers through his thick hair, searching for any kind of bump or cut that might tell her if he’d hit his head on the way down. Coherent enough to recognize what she was doing, he reassured her that he hadn’t. “I sat down as soon as I got lightheaded.”

“You shouldn’t even be up if it’s this bad,” Gwen scolded gently, brushing back his hair, which was damp with sweat. It was the spell wreaking havoc on his body, she realized. Which was bad enough, but at least he didn’t seem to have injured himself further by collapsing. He’d been feeling poorly ever since completing the first step in closing the Gates of Hell five months ago, and it had only gotten worse since the second step last week, when he’d rescued his baby sister’s soul.

“I know, I should be resting so I’m strong enough to finish it,” he said. “I just wanted to get a hot water bottle.”

“You could have asked someone to get it for you.” She stood up, pulling the requested item from the cabinet and filling it with the still steaming water from the kettle.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” He took the hot water bottle when she knelt back down, clutching it to his chest and curling up a little more into its warmth.

"You would never bother us by asking for help," Gwen reassured him. "Speaking of which, I'm going to go get Merlin and Percival to help you back to bed."

"No!" He cried, one hand shooting out to grab her wrist and keep her from leaving.

"You think you can walk then?" She asked, and got her answer from the way he turned his head away in embarrassment. 

"I'm okay staying here until I can. Please don't go wake anyone else."

"Lancelot, they won't mind. They'll want to help you."

"I know. But please, Guinevere. I don't have a lot of time left and I don't want to spend it being pitied by my friends or making them worry about me."

It shocked Gwen to hear him speak so frankly about the fact that he was dying, but then maybe shocking her had been his intention, since she clearly couldn't disobey his wishes without feeling like a monster now that he'd brought it up.

"I can't let you just lay on the kitchen floor," she protested.

"Bring me a blanket then," he said cheekily. In the end, Gwen ended up dragging over her entire bedspread, so Lance could lie on the folded-up comforter instead of the hard tile floor and still have a blanket covering him. She didn’t bring any pillows, instead sitting down with her back against the cabinet and pulling his head into her lap. If they really did only have a few more months before he died, she was going to spend as much of it as possible with him. Lancelot fell asleep quickly with hands stroking through his hair, and despite his fever and the less than ideal bed, his sleep seemed restful. He didn’t toss and turn at least, and only woke when Merlin stumbled in and almost tripped on him in the morning.


End file.
